The Motion Picture Director (Sep 1925 - Feb 1926)

46 N ovember Director out the deep voice of the tragedian, “My price is $50.” Schuessler regretted he had no opening. Then he remembered that Edward Sedgwick was calling for Indians for his Hearts of the West. “I can make you an Indian at $25,” said Schuessler. “An Indian at $25,” roared the old actor, “Sorry sir, but I cannot accept.” As he neared the door, the veteran stopped. “My price, sir,” he said, “is $50. I cannot play an Indian for $25, but I will agree to go on as a half-breed at that price.” * * * With the recent death of Eugene Sandow, in London, Joe Bonomo claims to be the undisputed strong man of the world. While age had somewhat weakened the iron muscles of Sandow, Bonomo’s claim to the title of the world’s strongest human was contested while Sandow lived, but with his passing, the Universal star now believes that he is rightfully the holder of the title. He is willing to compete for the honor with any strong man. * * * PATSY RUTH MILLER has been having lot of fun with her newly shingled thatch of hair. She has been regarded as a staunch defender of lengthy locks for so long that falling beneath the bobber’s shears has brought consternation. Just after the clipping, hatted in a neat little felt, she made a personal appearance with other stars at a benefit fashion show, and the man who introduced the stars tendered a deft compliment on the wisdom of Pat’s retaining her individuality by keeping her long hair. He concluded by asking Pat to give a few words on why she never bobbed her tresses. Pat was at a loss for a moment — but not for long. She swept her hat off and stood in the glory of her new shingle bob. “I haven’t a thing to say!” declared Pat, and the audience howled. * * * ALTHOUGH studio gatemen in the „ film capitol are no longer fooled by the clever disguises of actors, it remained for Charlotte Mineau, featured player with Mary Pickford in Scraps to “put one over” on the casting director at the PickfordFairbanks lot. When Miss Mineau was being considered for the role she is now playing the well-known c.d. voiced a protest against the signing of Charlotte for the part, claiming that she was “too darn attractive” to essay the character of an old hag. The following day, while the matter was still under discussion, a slovenly old woman walked in on the conference and demanded an immediate interview with the casting director. Indignantly, the c.d. ordered that the wretch be ‘given the air’ and it was than that Miss Mineau revealed her identity and affixed her signature to the coveted contract. ACCORDING to Pete Smith at 1\ M-G-M the surest way to analyze the fundamental traits of star characteristics is to note the type of music they want played off scene, as for instance: Lillian Gish, at work on La Boherne, prefers pensive classics; Raff’s “Vavatina,” the Berceuse from “Jocelyn,” Gounod’s “Ave Maria” and the “Racconto Del Rudulpho” from La Boheme are most frequently heard. Mae Murray, starring under Christy Cabanne’s direction in The Masked Bride, is a dancer. Strains with striking rythm are her inspiration. A jazz orchestra plays music that is heavily punctuated by tympanii ; — “Lulu,” for instance. Norma Shearer reacts to violins; — “Traumerei,” Rubinstein’s “Melody in F” and Kreisler’s “Olden Melody” are among her favorites. Pauline Starke likes modern comic operas; — and Gilbert and Sullivan. Lew Cody prefers airs from the French operas; — “Thais,” “Louise,” and “La Navarraise.” * * ^ WHEN Rupert Julian wants certain music for a scene he is directing he doesn’t depend on the limited repertoire of the three-piece “orchestra” playing on his set, he just sits down to the little ol’ piano and knocks out his own love song or whatever is demanded. He was directing a scene for Three Faces East on the DeMille lot the other day and did his own pinch-hitting when a particularly touching melody was required. Old Man Overhead chalked up just ten minutes to Julian while he knocked out a tune that would have made Beethoven or Wagner green with envy. You may not see it in the pictures but you’ll see Walthall, Clive Brooke and Jetta Goudal emoting to its strains. * * * BECAUSE Norma Shearer’s brother, Douglas, used to be a radio fan — and used to practice all day with the “code”, Miss Shearer has been able to cast discomfiture into the souls of two very clever youths. The boys, evidently amateur wireless enthusiastic, were looking in a store window and carrying on a conversation by whistling;— that is, whistling the dots and dashes of the code, as is often done by operators. The Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer star stood regarding them for a moment. One of the boys whistled a rather risque remark. “Lobster”, whistled Miss Shearer in code, and walked away, leaving two flabbergasted youths staring after her. * * * Postal authorities, even in foreign lands, have their picture fans as was proved by the postcard Mae Murray received at the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios after it had traveled from Japan to Washington, Wash ington to New York, thence back to California to the studios where she was being starred in The Masked Bride. Pasted on it, in lieu of an address was her photo — nothing more. It was signed “From a Japanese admirer.” The Japanese postal authorities recognized the photo and forwarded the card to the Postmaster General’s office at Washington; there it was sent to New York, where her whereabouts was ascertained and the card forwarded to the studios at Culver City. Which shows that Miss Murray’s face is not without fame * * * PROBABLY the meanest actors before a camera are the alligators rented to picture companies by an alligator farm near Los Angeles. Seven of the beasts were used this week in Mary Pickford’s Scraps. While Miss Pickford is leading nine little children through the swamp, they are suddenly confronted with the alligators. The making of the scenes was extremely dangerous, and the greatest care was taken to protect Miss Pickford and the children, as well as the workmen who handled the animals. During one scene an alligator suddenly snapped at H. F. Carney, one of the cameramen. Carney was deep in the mud, and could not move his boots. So he slipped out of the one nearest the alligator, and made his escape to shore in his stocking foot. Crack shots with rifles were stationed just outside the range of the cameramen. THOLTGH accustomed to every sort of costume from Roman togas to the rags of Lear, Tyrone Power, celebrated character actor, donned his first Indian attire in the Alan Hale production of Braveheart, starring Rod La Rocque. Particularly dismaying were the Indian leggings which, as every westerner should know, cover the redskin’s legs, but not his southern facade. It was on the heels of this discovery, the first morning on location, that Mr. Power, summoned before Alan Hale after an hour’s delay, which he spent sulking within his dressing-tent, stalked majestically forth, an injured look in his eagle eye. “What’s been keeping you Tyrone?” inquired Hale, glancing with approval at his chief’s costume which was, at the moment, on display from the front. The mighty chieftain blushed a delicate pink under his Duco finish. “Most extr’ordin’ry,” he complained nervously, “Extr’ ordin’ry mistake somewhere, Alan. Some imbecile has given me a pair of trousers without a seat,” and he turned on his heel for inspection as the Order was restored immediately after lunch.